Reminiscence
by Probably-a-stalker
Summary: There's nothing left to do but remember. Oneshot. One-sided NickEllis.


**A/N- So I'm not exactly sure what I think about this one. As always, let me know if there are any errors or anything of that nature. Don't forget to review! ;)**

* * *

Ellis dropped to his knees, unable to see, unable to breathe, unable to even think through the distant haze of his allies' screams for him to carry on. He never thought he'd die like this, even after the Infection hit. He'd always imagined fighting through it, finding Keith, and somehow continuing their ridiculous antics until one or both of them died from some sort of fire-related injury. Thinking back on this now, considering he didn't have much time to be thinking anyway, he realized just how stupid he was for believing it could happen. There was a very slim chance of Keith even being alive, very few people seemed to be immune, and even less survived the hordes upon hordes of raging infected. The odds were definitely against him in this particular case, but it wasn't like he hadn't faced tough situations before. Then again, any time he had been, Keith had always been there to bail his ass out.

Like that one time, when he and Keith had been drinkin', and they found that barbed wire and a plastic totem pole and decided to take it to the local swimming pool and-

Lying on his back, staring at the sky, Ellis laughed to himself. There he was, incapacitated in an alleyway in the middle of a zombie apocalypse, reminiscing about his buddy Keith. He'd lost the ability to move on his own, so in all reality, it was the best thing he could be doing at the time. He almost felt bad about being unable to move. After all, Keith had always said, "A few cracked ribs an' a broken nose ain't no reason to go home. The night's jus' started!"

Ellis laughed again. Keith always had been the one to egg him on long after it was time to quit. Maybe that's why he'd been so eager to rush ahead of the group. He hadn't meant to get separated and injured, but with the _don't stop 'till yer dyin' _mindset Keith had drilled into him, it was hard to forget that this really was a life-or-death situation. As of now, he was stopped, because he was _definitely_ dying. There was no use denying it at this point, he was going to die here, alone, with no one to keep him company but his memories of Keith and the blood seeping from his wounds. So _much_ blood. And he was just so _cold_.

Now that he thought about it, wasn't blood supposed to be warm? Ellis was currently soaked in his own blood, and he was anything _but _warm.

Or at least he thought. Really, he couldn't be sure anymore. His mind was foggy, and no matter the temperature of his blood, he was losing a lot of it. He was drifting in and out of reality. Unsure of what was real, and what wasn't.

_He was attending church with his mother, the minister droning on in front of him. But all he could focus on was the color of his mother's dress. Yellow. Very yellow. He was picking daisies with his sister in the field near his house. They were going to have a picnic. Keith brought the cake, a blue one with white frosting. It was his sister's birthday. _Ellis looked at the blood seeping from his own body. Oh lord, too much. There was just too much. _His sister's name was Grace. She was fourteen. _Sounds of the Infected all around him, why couldn't he just go already? _They were underneath the big willow tree close to their house, Grace's favorite place. Keith set the cake down on the blanket. Grace had forgotten the silverware. She rushed back to the house to get it._ A scream.

A scream? Was this part of his daydream? Or had he finally come back to the real world to watch himself die?

No. He remembered now. This had happened. It really had been his sister's birthday. She had wanted to spend it with the two of them.

He had reached the house just in time to watch his mother rip his little sister's throat out.

Ellis cried, the tears making paths through the blood and dirt on his face. He had killed his mother with the pistol in the kitchen drawer. He left. Keith was nowhere to be found. Eventually he had made his way to an evacuation center. He had traveled with Nick, Coach, and Rochelle. He had run ahead and now he was laying on the ground, bleeding to death, thinking about his companions.

At least he had been able to rip himself away from the dream. The daydream had become worse than reality.

Ellis wondered if dying usually took this long for other people. It had seemed like hours since he'd encountered that hunter. He had been attacked by it, and had just barely managed to kill it. But not until after it had already clawed him enough to bring him down.

Ellis wondered what his friends were doing. He figured that after all they'd been through together, he'd earned the right to call them friends.

Had they realized he'd been hurt? Were they looking for him? He didn't know. He hoped they were. At least then he wouldn't have to die alone.

Maybe… Maybe dying in a dream, with the illusion of happiness, was preferable to dying alone.

So he slept.

* * *

They'd been looking for Ellis for almost an hour. Nick was on the verge of panic. Well, okay, he had started panicking when he'd realized the kid was gone.

"What the _hell_ was Ellis thinking, running off like that? What are we going to _do_? Without him, we can't-I can't-"

"It's okay, Nick. He's going to be _fine._ Just _fine._ We're going to find him, and he's going to be okay." Rochelle attempted to comfort him, but she knew immediately that it wouldn't help. Why would Nick believe it, when she was so doubtful herself?

They'd looked forward, they'd backtracked, they'd looked everywhere they could imagine him being. Except the abandoned evac. Well, they'd assumed it was abandoned, all of them were. So they hadn't even bothered checking it out. It would be a waste of time they already didn't have. Apparently, Ellis had a different idea. Unchecked places meant the possibility of immune survivors that would have gone unnoticed to the group.

Which, in turn, meant Keith.

* * *

Reaching the place meant to be an evacuation center, the three checked for any sign of Ellis. A blood trail, leading out the back door, led them to him. They ran to him, dropping to their knees, praying to _god_ he was alive.

Nick grasped his hand, squeezing it.

"Ellis." He said.

Nothing. No sound, no movement came from the mechanic.

Rochelle squeezed her eyes shut. Coach put a hand on her shoulder. They walked back into the building. They both knew that Nick had secretly harboring some sort of affection for the boy. If this was the end, then Nick needed to be left alone.

Nick dropped his hand. He grabbed Ellis by the shoulders and began shaking him. Gently at first, yelling, screaming, begging him to open his eyes, to say something, _anything._

It was no use. Nick slowly put him back on the ground and began to cry.

Ellis opened his eyes. He very weakly looked up, registering that someone was there. Nick noticed, grabbed him and held him close. Yes, Ellis was alive, but Nick knew that there was no way in hell he was going to make it though this. So holding him was the only thing he could do.

"You found me… I was hoping you would." Ellis breathed.

Nick just cradled him softly in his arms.

He realized it was now or never. He had to tell him, or he would never know.

"E-ellis." He choked out, "I… I love you."

Ellis smiled up at him.

"I love you too, _Keith_."

Nick buried his head in his hands as Ellis drifted away.


End file.
